Kai woke first.

  He did not expect to. Usually Lian was already up, stretching or checking her blades or quietly pacing the perimeter of whatever safehouse they were staying in. But when he opened his eyes, the room was still dim and quiet except for the faint hum of the electric kettle Mei had set on a timer.

  Kai sat up slowly, feeling the soreness in his shoulders from carrying the boy the night before. The safehouse was cramped but warm. One child slept curled up on a mattress near the wall. Another lay half buried under a blanket that was obviously too big for her. The boy who had clung to Kai earlier was still tucked into the corner, breathing deeply.

  Kai rubbed his face and tried to let the sight settle him.

  He got up and walked quietly to the kitchen area. The kettle clicked off. Mei stood there, leaning against the counter, her hair loose now. She looked like she had been awake for a while.

  “You sleep at all?” Kai whispered.

  “A little,” she said. “You?”

  “Barely.”

  She poured him a cup of tea and slid it across the counter. “Lian is on the roof. She said she needed air.”

  Kai nodded. “Of course she is.”

  Mei watched him take the first sip. “How is your head this morning?”

  He exhaled. “Clearer than last night. Not by much.”

  “That is normal.”

  Kai held the warm cup between his palms. “I keep thinking about the moment before I pulled the trigger. I do not know if I hesitated or if I skipped right past it.”

  Mei did not lecture him. She just let him speak.

  “And I keep asking myself what you asked me,” Kai continued. “Would I do it again?”

  “Would you?” Mei asked.

  He thought about it. Really thought. “If it meant saving those kids again, then yes. I think I would.”

  Mei nodded with a softness that made his chest tighten. “Then you have your answer.”

  Before he could respond, one of the children began to stir. Mei walked over while Kai stayed leaning against the counter. She spoke in a low voice, offering the girl warm congee and a gentle touch. The child relaxed almost instantly.

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  Mei had a way of calming chaos without making a big show of it. Kai admired that, even if he did not say it out loud.

  Lian came down the stairs a few minutes later. Her hair was slightly damp, like she had rinsed her face in the cool morning air. She looked alert but tired in a way that sat deeper than physical exhaustion.

  “You two started without me,” she said, dropping into the chair next to Kai.

  He pushed his tea toward her. “I saved you half.”

  She took a sip and nodded her approval. “Did you sleep at all?”

  “A little,” Kai said. “Enough to know I am still tired.”

  Lian gave him a quick glance, not sharp or searching, just checking. “You look better than last night.”

  “I feel better. I think.”

  She rested her elbow on the table. “We will take today slow. No scouting. No planning. We stay here and keep them calm.”

  Kai blinked. “You want a day off?”

  Lian shrugged. “I want them to feel safe for at least one day before we move them again.”

  Kai considered that. Lian rarely pressed pause on anything. Hearing her say it out loud eased something in him.

  Mei joined them at the table. “The social worker I trust can meet us tomorrow. Not today. She is covering a double shift.”

  “That works,” Lian said. “We can hold down this place.”

  Kai looked at Lian. “You are sure no one tracked us?”

  “I checked the perimeter twice already,” she said. “No movement. No signals. No one followed that van.”

  Her voice was steady, and Kai believed her. He always did.

  The rest of the morning passed quietly. The children woke one by one. Lian taught the smallest girl how to fold a blanket into a neat square. Mei braided the older girl’s hair while humming a soft melody that drifted through the room like sunlight. Kai played a simple card game with the boy, who watched him with wide, trusting eyes.

  At one point, Kai realized the boy was trying to mimic the way he shuffled the cards. Kai smiled and showed him how to bridge the edges together. The boy’s eyes lit up when he succeeded. It was such a small victory, but it carried a weight that felt good in Kai’s chest.

  Around midday, Lian stepped outside to take a call. When she returned, her expression was neutral but alert.

  “That was Chan,” she said. “He got word that two more kids from the same ring escaped last week. They have not been found yet.”

  Mei straightened. “Do we know where they went?”

  “No. Not yet.”

  Kai felt a familiar heat rising behind his ribs. “We should look for them.”

  “We will,” Lian said. “But not today.”

  “Two days could be too long.”

  Lian met his eyes. “I know. But we cannot go in burned out. You especially.”

  Kai opened his mouth to argue but stopped. She was right and he knew it. Still, something restless twisted inside him.

  Mei leaned forward slightly. “You can care without breaking yourself in half, Kai.”

  He let out a slow breath. “I am trying.”

  “I know,” Mei said.

  The rest of the afternoon passed with more quiet routines. Laundry. Dishes. Teaching the older girl how to tie her shoes properly. Sorting through the supplies in the safehouse, checking expiration dates on bandages and food packets. It almost felt like a normal day in a normal home, which felt strange but comforting.

  Near evening, the children settled down for another nap. The three adults finally let themselves sit.